


A Sight For Sore Eyes, Or A Monster in the Making?

by MaketheWeirdSubmit



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Slow Burn, Some Racial Prejudice, some racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 05:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaketheWeirdSubmit/pseuds/MaketheWeirdSubmit
Summary: Aetheria Lavellan is a stoic mystery wrapped up in a penchant for heavy violence covered in a strange kind of kindness.  With the strength of ten men and wielding a Greatsword bigger than she is tall, the Inquisitor cuts an intimidating figure. A fact she uses freely to her advantage. Cassandra wonders at the might of Aetheria, at first believing that power comes from the Maker Himself. But as Thedas grows more and more unstable, with Corypheus on the loose and the Inquisition's enemies biding their time in the shadows, Cassandra's faith in Aetheria wanes. Is she truly sent by the Maker and Andraste to guide the Inquisition to victory? Or is she simply a loose cannon given unimaginable power to use as she wishes? Leliana believes the ends justify the means. Cassandra believes righteousness must prevail at any cost.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In which Aetheria gets the longest introduction ever, Cullen is a right tit, and Cassandra is struck starry-eyed.

It is a bright and breezy midmorning in Haven when Cullen storms into the War Room, annoyance and exasperation equally clear in the stern set of his jaw. Three figures standing around the large table immediately turn to regard his entrance with varying degress of warmth. Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the Divine and former Seeker of Truth, wears a deep scowl at his interruption. Beside her stands the amiable and charming Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador extraordinaire to the Inquistion. Her beautiful face wears a smile like stone, unchanged at his arrival. Across from them both is the equally charming and yet far more dangerous Left Hand of the Divine and Spymaster, Leliana. She, at least, greets him properly with a warm smile and calm eyes, unreadable as they may be.

"Hello, Cullen," the Nightengale croons in her lightly accented and deceptively pleasing voice. "How nice of you to join us halfway through our negotiations. Might I ask what has prompted you to grace us with your presence? Perhaps you've thought of a simply ingenious method of securing a reliable source of lyrium for either the mages or the templars we will eventually recruit?"

He grimaces at her rebuke, knowing full well he had not been invited to this meeting for a good reason. Clenching his jaw to choke off a bitter reply, he calms himself with the knowledge that he is here to resolve an important matter. "My apologies, Lady Nightengale," he grits out as smoothly as he can, a half smile twisting his lips. "It appears I have need of your assistance, ladies."

Cassandra scoffs and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrow in his direction. "Ridiculous. In so far as I know, there is nothing the Commander of the Inquisition forces could need our help with that could not stand to wait until a proper juncture. I knew you were upset to be left out of this discussion, but this is beyond improper."

"Now, now, Cassandra," Josephine interjects, ever the mediator in the face of Cullen's obvious rising temper. "I'm sure that is not the case. Surely even you, Seeker, know that unexpected events do occur and thus are subject to special circumstances. If he is here uninvited and unwelcome of his own doing, then I am certain such a thing has come to pass."

A chuckle emerges unexpectedly from the Spymaster, a smile made of steel upon her lovely features. "As always, you make a good point, Josie. I must admit I am rather curious as to what has prompted the Commander to request our help. Do spit it out, Cullen."

With a furious sigh, the man in question grips his sword hilt tightly in one hand, and, when that only serves to settle him midly, he sets his other hand atop it and squeezes hard. "Have any of you laid eyes upon the Herald yet this morning?"

The three briefly glance at each other before unanimously shaking their heads in the negative. Cassandra, in particular, looks suddenly troubled at the question. "Do you mean to say you have not seen her today yourself, Cullen?"

He shakes his head as well, beyond annoyance at this point. "If I had, I would not be here at this very moment."

"Do you mean to tell me," the Seeker asks lowly, her voice growing steadily louder as the thunderous expression on her face brews larger, "that you have _lost the Herald of Andraste?!_ " She throws her arms up in disgust as she steps closer to the Commander. "It is not even midday and you have already _failed_ in your duty? Just what have you spent the morning doing?!"

The shouted words are the final straw for the stressed and put-upon man. " _Failed my duty?!_ I have done no such thing! It's not my fault the Herald insists on behaving like a bloody child and disappears at the slightest hint of responsibility!"

Thump. Cassandra visibly seethes, the force of her fist hitting the rickety table behind her nearly enough to send it crashing in pieces to the floor. "Do not say such blasphemous things! The Herald _does not_ flee her duties!"

Leliana steps immediately between the two, holding her arms out placatingly. "That is enough, both of you! If anyone is acting like children, you two are doing an admirable job of it!" Both warriors stubbornly turn their heads at her words, but she remains undeterred. "There is obviously a reasonable explanation for the Herald's disappearance, and while it is a cause for concern, there is no need for full alarm yet."

"I concur," Josephine happily proclaims in her Antivan chirp from her position next to the table, not having moved an inch in the commotion. "We must examine what we know of the Herald thus far and her habits. Being not only of elvish descent but Dalish as well, I would hazard a guess and say that she is probably out in the wilderness somewhere, yes? It must be very hard on her to be in a place so different from what she is accustomed."

Cullen pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off his impending headache. Maker, he is far more prone to them than he'd like now that he's stopped taking lyrium. "I had considered that, yes. The only problem is, I cannot leave my post to go traipsing about this godforsaken frozen wasteland in search of a recalcitrant child, nor can I spare the manpower to send a scout after her trail. If she wants to shirk her duties to play, then so be it. I had hoped one of you would happen to know where she is, and even who to send out to fetch her in the event an emergency should arise, Maker forbid."

He lowers his hand to assess their reactions, and is dismayed to see Cassandra a breath away from strangling him. Leliana's unrestrained giggling thankfully prevents the Seeker from lashing out against him, but he remains guarded at the twinkle in the Spymaster's eye. "Recalcitrant child? My, what our dear Herald would think to be called such by none other than our own Commander! Are you blind to the giant greatsword she carries strapped to her back at all times? No mere child would have any hopes of lifting it, let alone many adults here in this compound. Wherever does this unsavory opinion come from, I wonder?"

Here she pauses, gauging the expression on his face. The morning is not even finished and yet Cullen already wishes for the relief of sleep. What had been a minor inconvenience has now turned into a full-blown issue. "What does it matter?" he snaps, rubbing his temple in an attempt to alleviate the ice pick that feels as if it's being hammered into his skull. It sets his teeth on edge. "Either you know how to help me or I've wasted precious time coming here. Which is it?"

A snort of evident distaste erupts from Cassandra's lips, followed by her abrupt departure. "For a man of your years and experience, Cullen, you are being astoundingly foolish. I will return later to continue this meeting. Good day."

Josephine tuts disapprovingly but says nothing. She begins scribbling notes on her parchment, ever handy with a lit candle to illuminate her writings. "If we are adjourned for now, I have other duties to attend to if you'll excuse me." Then she, too, is swiftly gone from the room, leaving only the Commander and the Spymaster to eye each other warily.

He should leave as well, he internally huffs, as he's already spent too much time away from his own duties. But he knows better than to think Leliana is finished with him, and he'd rather have her be done sooner than later. The way she stares at him with her icy eyes and cool demeanor is enough to chill him through his thick furs. "I agree with Cassandra - you are being extraordinarily foolish in regards to our Herald. I was being serious earlier when I asked what led to these thoughts of yours. Tell me, now."

"You say in defense of her absentee behavior that she carries that gargantuan sword around. To that, I say having a weapon and knowing how to use one are two different things. Strength is an important quality, undoubtedly. I am not saying she lacks the brute strength to lift and swing that monstrosity, only that she has yet to prove she has any skill with it. Any man or woman can swing a weapon mindlessly, what matters is if they know how to use it properly. I would have her prove that she is capable of handling herself not only for her own safety, but for the sake of the Inquisition.

"But every time I try to set up a training session or, Maker forbid, have a simple conversation with her, she disappears like smoke on the wind! It's beyond maddening! I don't know how you and the other advisors stand it! Nothing ever gets done and I have had it with her lacking sense of duty and responsibility to the Inquisition!"

Cullen gasps for breath as if he's just been in a shouting match. The end of his tirade has taken much out of him, but he feels relieved now that he's gotten it off his chest. However, Leliana's next words settle the stones back in place, heavier than ever.

"Did you ever stop to think that you are the only one who has difficulty with her? Indeed, she has spoken many times with not only myself, but Josephine and Cassandra as well, even the other prime members we've picked up so far. It appears she... _dislikes_ you for some reason, Cullen, and now I can understand why. You have no respect for her, and thus she has none for you. As for her skill with that 'monstrosity' as you called it, I would say she has a near-perfected style of her own with it. I've never seen someone use one of those so easily, even Iron Bull. But," Leliana smirks suddenly, drawing her cowl close to cast her eyes in shadow, "why take my word for it? I'm sure she'll only be too happy to demonstrate for you after she hears what you've been saying about her."

She brushes past him, leaving him no room to reply. Peals of mocking laughter mark her farewell before the doors shut behind her. As he is left in a silence marked only by the distant singing of Chantry sisters, he begins to wonder if he is as much the fool as he's twice been called.

*.*

Cassandra flies across Haven in a furious pace, her face twisted in rage. To hear that Cullen would not only have the nerve, but the _gall_ , to call the Herald a useless child sets her blood aflame with a righteous anger. She knows he has not made any effort to get to know the Dalish woman, indeed going so far as to even _alienate_ her with his platitudes about duty, loyalty, and the importance of training. Maker, it's no wonder the Herald makes herself scarce in the face of such unrelenting ignorance! Cassandra likes to think she's made some headway of friendship with the stoic woman. They spend enough time together both in and outside of Haven.

In her journey to the gates, she makes a brief stop by the Herald's cabin to see if Cullen had only missed her return, but not a sound answers Cassandra's summons. With a sigh, the Seeker attempts to calm herself as she approaches the gates, not wishing to be called out on her mood by the observant Herald. The men guarding the gates salute her as she passes, and she barrels towards the woods in the distance. If Cassandra's come to know anything about the Herald, it is that she abhors the indoors and delights in being free of them. Even in the frozen mountains, Cassandra is sure the Herald has returned to what she knows best: forestry.

As she nears the treeline, however, she is delighted to see a head of deep burnished auburn emerging from the depths. The handle of the Herald's greatsword stretches just above her head to the tips of her pointed ears, tinged slightly red in the chill wind that blows steadily across the snow. Moving slowly but at a steady pace, the Herald pauses briefly to wave to Cassandra before continuing towards her.

"Good morning, Herald," Cassandra greets as she nears, curious to discover the cause of the Dalish woman's slow approach. "What is that you are pulling so arduously?"

The Herald stops completely, dropping the rope she'd been holding in her thick gloves. She gestures the Seeker to move closer, pulling back the heavy material covering what appears to be a makeshift sled of some sort. Cassandra is surprised to see the remains of two mature bucks, three rabbits, and even a sizable barrel of fish. "What's all this?"

A silent sigh issues from her Dalish companion, marked only by the visible breath on the air. "I went hunting this morning," she says quietly, absently rubbing the tips of her ears. "The larders are getting low and I know the troops have been struggling to fill the needs of the hungry. I noticed none of your people are skilled hunters. I'd even venture to say that you're abysmal at it. Without knowing for how long the supply shipment will be delayed for, I thought I'd lend a hand." She covers the animal carcasses back up, turning back to continue her trudge across the deep snow.

Cassandra is stunned silent and still for a few moments. She shakes off her astonishment with resolve, but is unable to completely rid herself of her awe. It is unmistakable in her voice, loathe as she is to hear it. "That is...very kind of you, Herald. The morning is barely leaving us, and yet you have secured the Inquisition the means to feed ourselves for at least a few days more. You must have begun your hunt quite early to have accomplished so much before the day is barely passed."

The Herald shrugs noncommittally. "It is the only way to begin the hunt. And, I thought I told you to stop calling me that, Cassandra."

"It is only your title, Herald. Even as one of the Dalish, surely you must acknowledge the importance of it?"

A dry expression is turned back towards her for only an instant. "Is it truly so important as I haul freshly killed animals with only you as my company? I think not. Call me by name, Cassandra. At least when it is just us. I don't see the importance of your precious holy title when I am only me, and you are only you.

Cassandra finds herself chuckling, despite herself. "Alright, fine. You have a point...Aetheria. But I will do so only when it is just us. Otherwise it may end up besmirching not only the Inquisition, but our very cause." A heavy snort is her only reply, but Cassandra takes it in stride. "In any case, you won't believe the morning I've had. I almost wish I could have joined you on your hunt - it would have been far more enjoyable than the ordeal this day has been."

Aetheria inquisitively tilts her head towards Cassandra. "Oh? Would it have anything to do with our charming Commander?"

"You have it in one. I have a great deal of respect for that man, truly, but that respect extends only so far. His impudence coupled with his sheer arrogance this morning was nearly enough to have me take him out at the throat. I swear that man loves to hear himself speak." This earns a hearty chuckle from the Herald, but she gestures for Cassandra to continue. "Can you believe he had the audacity to interrupt my meeting with Josephine and Leliana? Especially after we specifically agreed he would be left out of it! I could have thrown him from the room for that alone, but of course Josephine insisted we hear him out first. Ever the diplomat, that one."

"But that is not the only thing he has done today to incur your wrath. I can tell."

Cassandra huffs and crosses her arms, resolutely staring ahead at the slowly encroaching gates. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't pout, Cassandra," and here Cassandra can hear the woman smiling, damn her. "You forget I've gotten to know you at this point, at least enough to know where your temper stands. And judging by your current stubbornness, I'd say the dear Commander really outdid himself." The Seeker wills herself to silence, only goading the Herald further. "Ooh, if you won't tell me, I'll have to guess. There are only a few things that can make you truly fly off the handle. Sure, you've a touchy temper, but you normally have a tight control over it. No, if Cullen pushed you too far today I'd have to say he hit rather hard upon a sensitive subject. Would that happen to be myself and my absence today?"

With a whirl, Cassandra faces Aetheria with astonishment yet again. The impish woman is grinning openly at her now, her deep red hair gleaming wonderfully under the sun. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Like I said, there are only a few things that can upset your temper so severely, and of those things, I as the Herald of Andraste am the only thing Cullen will touch with a ten-foot pole. Of course, he does seem to have it out for me for some unfathomable reason, but then I suppose not all _shems_ are as amenable as you. Another problem for another time."

"I..." Cassandra fumbles, unsure what to say in the face of such astuteness. She shamefully admits to herself she had not expected to discover such sharp intellect in the Dalish woman - in fact, she had expected to find the Herald woefully lacking in knowledge about the human world. But rarely has the Seeker ever been so wrong. As her mouth opens and closes rapidly, searching desperately for a response, Aetheria gently pats her arm for a brief moment before pulling away and signalling to the guards on duty at the Haven gates.

Distantly Cassandra hears the calls of, "The Herald has returned safely! Maker be praised!" But she is oddly focused on the lingering feeling of the Herald's hand upon her, brief as it was. To offer comfort in the face of prejudice...A flush of shame rushes over her. Truly, the Dalish woman is too kind for her own good.

"It's about time you showed up!"

And there goes her good mood. Cassandra scowls and turns towards the unwelcome intrusion for the second time in the day. Cullen is plowing directly towards them, discontent twisting his normally handsome features. The Seeker is loathe to do verbal battle with him yet again, but the steady presence of the Herald in front of her is enough to stay her tongue.

"And just where have you been all day?! You were supposed to come train from dawn with the troops! Of course you couldn't have resisted the urge to shirk your duties yet again to dally in the woods, putting not only yourself at risk but this entire Inquisition! Have you no shame?!"

Spittle is practically flying from the Commander, he is so enraged. Hearing his words, Cassandra herself feels she is ready to spit as well. Such blatant disrespect! And after the Herald had gone out of her way to feed the very men and women he has taken under his command!

Aetheria's arm upon her shoulder for the second time is enough to still the blind fury coursing through her veins. With great effort she restrains herself, accepting the sled rope from the Herald as she steps back towards the Larder. Cullen hounds after her like a demon.

" _Hey!_ I'm talking to you! Don't think you can run off to have bloody breakfast after playing around in the woods all morning! What meager food we do have is for the hard-working! Those actually willing to wake up at a decent hour and do a decent day's work! Damn it, _listen to me!_ "

His raging goes ignored and unanswered as Aetheria briefly enters the Larder and exits again holding a bucket and a sharp skinning knife. Cullen continues to blindly shout at her, his fits drawing a large crowd. Even Leliana and Josephine have come to see what all the fuss is about. When Aetheria kneels beside the sled and throws back the covering, Cullen immediately goes quiet. Not a sound can be heard over the brush of the wind, only the quiet noise of a knife entering flesh.

"What...what is this?" Cullen demands, disbelieving his eyes.

Cassandra can no longer hold herself in check, snorting derisively. "If you had bothered to ask, you would have known without making a fool of yourself. Early this morning, earlier than either you or I had risen, the Herald was awake to begin her hunt. Why, you may be asking? Because she took it upon herself to notice our food stores were growing small, as you yourself said. But unlike you who has done nothing about it, she put her knowledge to good use and gathered enough food to last us for a few days at least as we wait our next supply shipment. What do you have to say to that, Cullen?"

The man in question is silent, pale as the snow around him as he realizes what he has done. "I..." He trails off, uncertain of what he could say for himself. The Herald, for her part, continues expertly gutting animals upon her sled, preparing them for the butcher to salt the meat and prepare it for use. It feels the entirety of Haven itself has brought itself out to watch the Herald gut her kills with ruthless efficiency. When she has finally finished and a servant has bravely stepped forward to take the bucket weighed heavily with bloody intestines, the Herald turns her considerable gaze upon Cullen.

He immediately feels uneasy, the weight of her eyes something he is unaccustomed to. Have they always felt so sharp? Has he ever truly taken the chance to find out? As she now stands bloodied before him, he feels unprepared for such an opponent.

"Why do you prattle on about training? I have no need for such. Better to spend time and effort on those who need you, Cullen, like the raw recruits who show up near daily. I am perfectly able to protect myself, and my talents are better spent elsewhere."

Cullen opens his mouth to object, to say that she is merely a _Dalish woman_ and therefore could have no idea what it's like to face a human in combat, but his words are cut off by the Herald unsheathing her massive greatsword. One-handed. "If you still doubt me, we can settle this here and now. I would have you focus your efforts where they're needed, and away from uselessly annoying me."

He is just enough pissed off, rattled, and driven to madness by his bloody headache that he accepts. With a ring he relishes, he draws his sword and has a servant fetch his shield. "I won't go easy on you, Herald. I hope, as Leliana has said, that you at least know which side of that sword of yours to use."

If he had hoped to goad her with that, she is unmoved. A faint smile wisps about her face instead. Cullen looks forward to the lesson he's about to teach her. With a mighty cry, he dashes forward to take her by surprise and end the fight in one fell stroke. He raises his shield and tucks in his sword arm, ready to bowl her over with his momentum.

Except, that's not at all what happens.

Instead of briefly encountering an impact and then overcoming it, he finds himself flying backwards with a deafening screech of metal. Disoriented, he scrambles to get to his feet but finds himself completely disarmed in seconds. His shield, dented beyond repair, goes flying in one direction; his sword, kicked beyond his reach. Before he has even taken a breath, the tip of a very sharp, very long blade is held to his neck. Caked in blood and with fire in her eyes, the Herald holds him to task.

"Does that satisfy your doubts, Commander?" she asks, not a breath or hair out of place, voice even with steel-encased stoicism he wonders at.

What a sight she must make.


End file.
